


Once Upon a Time in the West

by lachatblanche



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Bounty Hunters, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: Logan meets young, bright-eyed Francis in the run-down town of Charity while on the hunt for the notorious bank-robbers, the Xavier siblings, never for a moment dreaming that Charles Xavier is much nearer than he thinks ...
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Logan (X-Men)/Charles Xavier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: X-Men Remix Madness 2020





	Once Upon a Time in the West

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Gerec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec) in the [xmen_remix_madness2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Safe work, if any (no limit): Gods or Mortals  
> Previous remixes, if any: https://archiveofourown.org/series/783426  
> I am okay with my X-Men comics/original movie trilogy/cartoon works being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with my collaborations being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with being remixed in a different medium (fic for art or art for fic): yes  
> I am okay with my past remixes being remixed: yes  
> I am okay with certain WIPs being remixed: yes all WIPS EXCEPT my safe work
> 
> This work is based on Chapter 7 of The Unfinished Ones Collection ('Western AU'), which it may be useful to read before this. The fic can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124748/chapters/53260222

When Logan thinks about it – and he thinks about it a _lot_ , far more than is healthy – he realises there was something shifty about the kid from the start.

To begin with, anyone who showed _that_ much interest in him was bound to have an underlying motive hidden up their sleeves. Logan was self-aware enough to know that he wasn’t half bad looking, but his looks were more often than not buried beneath layers of bristle and hair and gritty prairie sand, not to mention the scowl that could clear a room in seconds if he tilted his lips the right way.

“Francis”, however, hadn’t seemed to be put off by any of it.

‘It must be so exciting, being a real-life bounty hunter,’ he’d breathed, his blue eyes wide and – goddammit – so seemingly full of sincerity. ‘Riding down those awful criminals and tying them up and handcuffing them …’ There was a pause, during which Francis seemed very taken with his own words. Then he smiled, his eyes gleaming invitingly. ‘I don’t suppose you’d … show me the ropes, Mr Howlett?’

And Logan never claimed to be the brightest gunslinger in the west but even he can tell when he’s being hit on and it doesn’t even occur to him to say no – not when he’s faced with those wide eyes and red lips and that pale, soft skin, seemingly untouched by the harsh sun and sand of the western sun.

‘I could show you a lot o’ things, kid,’ he says instead, sliding off his seat and allowing his lips to pull up in a smile. ‘All you got to do is ask.’

‘Oh, I’m asking,’ Francis murmurs and he takes Logan’s hand and squeezes, his eyes full of promise and, there, right then, Logan knows he’s a goner.

****

*

****

**  
**

Logan blames that for the reason why he’d been dumb enough not to realise what he had right in front of his own two eyes the entire damn time. Well – that and the fact that “Francis Darkholme” could have put the skills of a brothel-full of whores to shame with the talents he possessed. 

‘Goddammit, kid,’ Logan gasps out after he’s left wrung out and shaking on the straw-stuffed bed, sure that he’s going to meet his maker any darn second because _goddamn_. ‘Where’d you learn to do all that?’

The boy’s smile is slow and secretive and very, very pleased with itself. ‘Oh,’ he says lightly, even as his eyes gleam with satisfaction. ‘Here and there.’ He pauses and then his smile shifts into a smirk. ‘Before I came to Charity I was in Walton and then Morland. Before that, Providence.’

****

*

****

**  
**

That’s the other thing that Logan feels like kicking himself for. The fact that the kid all but painted his real name in red across Logan’s face and yet he _still_ failed to pick up on it.

Providence. Milton. Morland. Carson. Walton. Charity. Just a few of the places that the notorious Xavier siblings were said to have hit on their wild, bank-robbing spree across the country.

‘And you’re really going after the Xavier siblings?’ Francis had asked him after Round Two or Three, while they’re both feeling mellow and at peace and Logan’s been fool enough to let a few words slip about himself and what he’s doing in Charity of all the godforsaken places in the world.

‘Charles and Raven Xavier,’ Logan had nodded, idly tracing his fingers up the pale skin of Francis’s arm. ‘Though heck knows where they are now. Teaches me right for getting the information off LeBeau, that sonofabitch.’

‘Remy LeBeau?’ Francis asks, blinking prettily and Logan, goddamn, is far too taken with the sight to say anything more than, ‘You know him then?’

Charles smiles again – sly, but slightly dreamy too. ‘Oh yes,’ he murmurs. ‘Oh yes, I … know him.’

There’s no other way to respond to an answer like that. All Logan can do is roll over and try his best to make the both of them forget all about Remy Fucking LeBeau and his silver tongue for as long as he damn well can.

The one consolation that he now takes is that, at least in that, he succeeded.

****

*

****

**  
**

The fact that Logan didn’t put two and two together when he met Raven Xavier, Charles Xavier’s infamous partner in crime, is just a symptom of the overall stupid goddamn problem, as far as Logan is concerned. 

‘Oh, this is my … cousin,’ Francis says brightly when a tall, blonde girl with a heart-shaped face throws herself down in the chair next to his when the two of them next venture out into the saloon. ‘Logan, meet …’ there is a pause as Francis blinks once, twice. ‘… Misty.’

Logan looks across at the girl in front of him, who is watching Francis with narrowed, unimpressed eyes, and thinks, _She doesn’t look much like a Misty to me_. But then Francis smiles wide and bright at him and Logan practically forgets that Misty even exists in the light of it.

‘Howdy,’ he manages to murmur, even as his eyes trace the curve of Francis’s lips. 

‘I would say “how do you do”,’ Misty says dryly, eyes moving between him and Francis. ‘But I think I already know the answer.’ She then turns to Logan and smiles very sweetly. ‘Tell me, good sir, did my dear cousin _rob_ you of your sleep last night?’ 

Logan can’t say for certain, looking back, that she _didn’t_ put emphasis on the word – or any of the other significant ones that he feels sure were littered throughout the sparse conversation they had that morning – but, judging by what he knows about her, and him (and how is it possible to know so much and yet so _little_ about someone, Logan will never know), he can take a wild guess that the answer is probably yes. Yes, she did, and yes, you are really as big a goddamn stupid asshole as everyone thinks you are.

****

*

****

**  
**

Logan is not a man who has a great deal of pride, but even he can admit that what little he has has taken a solid kicking since he met the Xaviers. 

‘Are you telling me,’ Sheriff Lehnsherr says, his teeth gritted together in an expression that would make other men turn tail and hightail it out of the door, ‘That you sat there and watched as the Xavier siblings threw their money around all night long, and it didn’t _once_ occur to you that the money may not have been _theirs_ to begin with?’

Logan scowls and glares down at the table. Lehnsherr is a hard-ass, and he doesn’t like him, but he can’t say that the guy doesn’t have a point every now and then.

‘I didn’t know,’ he returns through his own gritted teeth. ‘They looked fancy and spoke fancy. They looked like the types to have money.’ He then looks up and dares to meet Lehnsherr’s eyes, his expression mulish. ‘Stolen gold doesn’t look all that different from the normal, hard-won kind, bub.’

Sheriff Lehnsherr’s eyes are hard when they meet Logan’s. They hold each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment. Then Lehnsherr abruptly sighs and, wiping a hand over his face, slowly sinks into his seat.

‘I guess not,’ he says wearily. ‘And, for what it’s worth, the Xaviers did grow up rich – very rich, so it’s not too surprising that you didn’t find it overly suspicious.’ He lets out a breath and then shakes his head tiredly. ‘Damn it, Charles,’ he mutters, the words low and probably not meant for Logan’s ears. ‘Stop running from me.’

‘Not that I know much about it,’ Logan says before he can stop himself. ‘But I don’t think it’s _you_ he’s running from.’

Lehnsherr slowly turns to look at him, and Logan is struck by his expression when he sees it. It’s one that he’s seen only too often, every time he’s looked in the mirror. _Oh_ , a part of him sighs, realising.

‘So,’ he says, smiling grimly. ‘You too, huh?’

Something sharp flashes over Lehnsherr’s face and for a moment Logan thinks that the Sheriff is going to at last loose that pent-up rage that seems to have been building inside him his entire life. But then Lehnsherr’s shoulders sink and he smiles bitterly and shakes his head. 

‘You know nothing about it,’ he says, calm once more. ‘And you don’t know Charles. No matter what he let you do to him in bed.’ His voice holds a barely concealed sneer at the end, but heck, Logan can’t exactly blame him for that. 

He wants to snap back, to say something about how he had done a _lot_ to Charles in bed, but the cooler, calmer part of him knows to hold his tongue, to not push this more than he has to.

By the time he glances back at the Sheriff, Lehnsherr has once more returned to his stern, blank-faced self and he is watching Logan closely, assessingly.

‘Your job isn’t over, Mr Howlett,’ he says coolly, his eyes cold and impersonal. ‘You are still under contract to me and I intend to collect. You will find Charles and Raven Xavier and bring them in to me, _unharmed_. Is that understood?’ He watches Logan for a minute before turning away. ‘And while I can’t do anything to stop you from falling into bed with criminals, I feel it necessary to remind you that the next time you see someone flaunting stolen riches you may want to do your duty and actually _arrest_ them.’

‘Don’t worry, bub,’ Logan says blandly before he can’t stop himself. ‘I’ll make sure that handcuffs are involved.’

The look Lehnsherr shoots him resembles the sort that Logan often receives right before someone pulls a gun on him. ‘Get out of my office, Howlett,’ Lehnsherr growls and then turns away in clear dismissal.

Logan slowly gets up and leaves the Sheriff’s office.

Things had gone just about as well as could be expected, he thinks wryly. He’d been chewed out good for his mistakes – but then again his mistakes had been pretty darn big, so he can’t say he blames the Sheriff.

Still, he thinks as he leads his horse Wolverine past the homestores and saloons on his way out of town, he’s glad that he never got around to mentioning the rather fetching emerald pendant that Misty was wearing throughout their acquaintance, nor the delicately-wrought gold pocket watch that had swung from the pocket of Francis’s waistcoat; items which, now that Logan thinks about it, were reported to have gone missing from a rich, indignant couple from the town of Milton a few short days before Logan had arrived in Charity.

He couldn’t help it, Logan thinks as he rides out of the city and on west to Danson. The green of the emerald and the gold of the watch had nothing on the blue of Charles Xavier’s eyes.

****

*

****

**  
**

There’s one other thing that Logan didn’t mention. That he didn’t clue Sheriff Lehnsherr into.

Just how it was that he came to see how big of a goddamn idiot he had been.

He and Francis had gone back to bed after Misty had left them to themselves and they had happily made use of the privacy she had afforded them. They had spent the night entwined together, exhausting themselves and leaving Logan so tired that, after, he fell into a deeper sleep than he can remember having in years.

When he woke up, he found that he was naked, alone and tied to the bed, ropes coiled snug around his wrists and lovingly knotted at the ends with a bow.

It had taken a minute for his dull brain to understand that something wasn’t quite right about the situation – that the ropes were just a bit too damn tight to be solely for pleasure – when Francis had strolled back in, bright and lovely and smiling wide. 

He was also dressed, fully and properly, and by his feet there was a satchel of the finest leather, new and shiny and smooth.

‘You’re awake!’ he said, sounding genuinely pleased. ‘I was hoping you would be!’ His expression then turned grave, though this was belied by the gleam in his eyes. ‘I am afraid that this is where we must part, my love. It’s been fun, but I have places to be and people to rob, and I never was one for staying in the same place for too long.’

Logan hadn’t fully understood, even then, still too dazed from sleep to fully put things together. 

Francis was still talking. ‘Besides,’ he’d added, smiling slightly. ‘My sister was getting impatient. Raven’s not overly fond of tiny places like Charity, I’m afraid.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘She doesn’t quite see the charm in them that I do.’

It was the name “Raven” that cut through Logan’s confusion. ‘What – your sister? Francis, what—’

‘Oh darling,’ Charles hushed him, shaking his head. ‘Let’s not part with lies. Use my real name this once.’ He looked up then and his eyes were wicked and blue and laughing. ‘Charles. Call me Charles. Francis is, I’m afraid, just a middle name.’

And that’s when it had sunk in – Francis, Misty, the hints, all of it. Logan had just stared at him in shock before jerking up and trying to wrest himself from the bed.

‘Oh hush now,’ Francis – no, _Charles_ had soothed him, coming over to the bed and running a gentle hand down his face. To Logan’s disgust, the touch immediately settled him and stopped his struggle. ‘I don’t want you to hurt yourself, darling. The knots are tight, yes, but nothing you can’t manage to wriggle out of in an hour or two. I’ll be long gone by then, I’m afraid.’ He glanced down at Logan and his lips turned downward. ‘I will miss you,’ he said with a wistful little sigh and then, with a smile, bent down and gently kissed Logan’s mouth. A moment later he pulled away. ‘Well – so long then,’ he said, and headed towards the door, leaving Logan too stunned to respond.

At the door, however, he hesitated and then turned around, cocking his head to the side, a slight smile on his red, red lips. ‘I’ll be in Danson City in five days’ time,’ he said, confidingly, his eyes meeting Logan with that same mix of mischief and earnestness that had so captured him before. ‘Look me up if you’re around.’ He paused and then his lips tilted higher. ‘And give my love to Erik for me, won’t you? I’m sure he’d _love_ to hear all about this.’

And with a wink and a tilt of his hat, he turned and stepped out of his room and out of Logan’s life. 

****

*

****

****  


Well, Logan thought as he spurred his horse east. Out of his sight, anyway.

Charles, he has a feeling, isn’t someone who will be slipping out of his life any time soon.

Not if he can help it.

Eyes glinting, Logan glanced ahead towards the lowering sun and spurred his horse on, towards Danson City. 

He was a bounty hunter, after all. And he had a reward to collect.


End file.
